


Winter Wind

by Ginger_Spice



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Writing, Castiel plays piano, Dean Plays Guitar, Guitar, I just need to get this off my hard drive, Music, Other, Piano, i dont actually give a shit about supernatural anymore, i dont know how the fuck to tag this shit its supernatural, seriously this is really old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 01:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15183758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginger_Spice/pseuds/Ginger_Spice
Summary: Upon further investigation of the Bunker, Dean discovers a hidden room full of all sorts of musical goodies. This is also super fucking old. Like 2015 old.





	Winter Wind

It had come as a shock to the trio when they had found the music room. An ‘extremely awesome shock,’ as a certain brunette would say when telling people. They had been living in that bunker for a few years now, and to think that they wouldn’t have stumbled across the room seemed baffling. But there it was, in all its dusty glory.

Dean Winchester, his cat-like green eyes glinting from the light of his flashlight, gazed around the room in a stupor. If anyone were to stumble upon the sight, they would be met by the sight of a goofily smiling man who was borderline drooling, and that only happened to him in two places: bakeries and strip clubs. He made a mental note to add, ‘Rooms full of various instruments,’ to that short list.

The reason why Dean Winchester was so excited to find this room, would have come as another shock to the remaining duo. An ‘awe-inspiring and beautiful shock,’ as a certain seraph would later surmise, and “an awfully noisy one,” a chuckling brother would joke. For you see, Dean Winchester did not just love various bands and artists and to listen to their cassette tapes, lip syncing lyrics wildly, he wanted to be just like them when he was a kid. However, as many would note, this did not occur.

Dean had never given up on his dream that he had as a kid however, and formed it to become more realistic and self-gratifying. Ever since he had learned to play guitar with help from his first kiss and long lasting crush, Robin, he had found solace in twang of the steel strings of an acoustic and the soft hum and buzz from nylons. Of course, being a lover of the finer things in life, he could never resist the ever handsome Les Paul, or the ass kicking Jackson. Whenever he had the chance, he practiced his skill, allowing himself to branch into different genres of music to elicit a different reaction from the instrument. He had even hesitantly dipped into Country tunes. That went over about as well as you would assume.

Dean could not believe the diversity of instruments that faced him. Not only were there quite a few different guitars, and a few amps to boot, but there were instruments from all over. Looking back at it, Dean suspected that the Men of Letters must have had branches all over the world, so it would be natural for them to display as such. Along the walls lined various percussions, Bongos, a Cajun, even a full drum set, however old they were. Stacked on shelves were various accessories for the drum set and tons of string instruments, wood instruments, anything you could think of, it was there. He even spotted what could have been a digeridoo in the corner. Just to top it all off, there was a great Grand piano smack dab in the middle of it all, it even had sheet music still lined up to read.

“Holy shit,” Dean finally whispered to himself.

Feeling along the wall for a light switch, he was met with a dusty knob of plastic, and the hum of electricity spread into the room. It definitely needed to be cleaned, but boy was he going to have a hell of a time.

He turned his back on the room for a moment, opening his mouth as if to shout out his discovery, but he was met with an eye full of curious squinting blue eyes.

“Holy shit!” Dean said, a little louder this time. The blue eyes narrowed in concern as they swept across his startled features.

“My apologies, Dean. I felt a spark of a strong emotion coming from this room and I wished to make sure you were okay.” Dean huffed as he stumbled back a step.

Dean huffed and turned his attention back to the room, and could not help the goofy grin that spread across his face taking it all in again. It seemed infectious, as the angel found himself stifling a smile in kind at his charge.

“Cas, man, look at this! Isn’t this awesome? There is a ton of stuff in here.” Dean dropped his flashlight down on the nearest table as he went to grab an electric guitar hanging from the wall. Flipping it over in his hand, he grinned even wider and looked towards Castiel once again.

“These have got to be from the 50s. Look at this; Les Paul, Strats, there’s a Telecaster in here…” Castiel tilted his head in obvious confusion, but the smile never dropped from his face. He took to gazing around the room, walking around the Grand Piano and swiping the dust from it.

“There seems to be quite a quantity of musical instruments in this room, perhaps I should fetch Sam so that he should-”

“Fetch Sam for what?” Said a voice, as a long haired head popped out from the doorway. His eyes widened.

“Holy shit,” he laughed.

“I know right?!”

“That is the third mention of sanctified waste, I don’t see how waste would accurately describe this room.”

Sam petered into the room, taking interest in the collection of stringed instruments from across the room as he fingered with the edges of his plaid. Noise of a scuffle could be heard in the back of a certain Dean playing with an amp and its wiring. Scoffing, Sam turned back to face Castiel,

“This would be pretty cool, if we were able to play any of these.”

Castiel opened his mouth, as if to reply, before the loud grading sound of an amp being connected to a guitar could be heard. Eyes whipped towards Dean as he focused on the sound the strings made individually, turned the black knobs at the head of the instrument at his discretion. Finding the tune of the guitar satisfactory, he strummed once, a handsome twang ringing out.

“Would you look at that, still sounds like a beauty.” Dean mused.

Sam stared blankly at Dean.

“When did you learn how to tune a guitar by ear?”

“Same year I learned how to play.” Dean replied cooly, as he strummed out Hallelujah languidly.

Sam looked incredulously at Dean, “And when was that?”

Dean looked up confused at Sam, “Uh… the time I was at the Boy’s House? And, like, all the other times we’ve been at a Welcome Center? When you go for jogs I go play at a nearby music store, you didn’t think I just laid in bed all day, did you?”

“I have never seen you play a guitar at a Welcome Center.”

“Well its not my fault you take so long to take a damn piss.”

“The lines are long.”

“Not in the men’s room, I think might want to double check the signs next time Sammy.”

Sam shut his mouth with a huff and a swipe at his hair, which may or may not have had a crudely hidden finger. Castiel rolled his eyes at the brothers and gestured to Dean who had now refocused on plucking out tunes.

“You say you have been playing for quite a while, to what is the extent of that knowledge?”

Dean whipped his head up and grinned, while Sam stepped back and slowly brought his fingers to press against his ears. Dean leaned down to jiggle with the setting of the amp, the hum becoming louder, and wrapped a strap around his frame. He stood up and motioned towards Castiel with the neck.

“You asked the right question there Cas,”

And then it erupted,

Quite literally.

Eruption, by Eddie Van Halen to be exact.

Of course, this man was by no means an expert at the instrument, so his version of this song was a bit slower than the king’s, and he did slip up a few times. But that didn’t stop Castiel from widening his eyes in surprise, and from Sam to raise an eyebrow and drop his jaw a bit.

Dean’s fingers stretched across the neck of the instrument, the steel sliding harshly through his flesh. The callouses of his fingers freshened as they danced across the glistening webs of nickel.  As he came lower into the neck towards the body, he leaned out from the body, allowing better access to the smaller frets. He found himself moving in and out of the small tune, as if a part of a dance. As the tune drowned out, he let out a small laugh and let the guitar hang around his next and scratched behind his ear, his spectacle catching up to him.

“That was… intriguing…” Castiel finally said… face scrunched in concentration. Dean met Castiel’s gaze. He found the angel sitting backwards on the bench of the piano, hands clasped and analyzing the guitar in Deans hands.

Dean pouted, looking at the guitar in his hands,

“Oh… I mean yeah, it’s got a nice sound and all…”

“No, you interpret me wrong, I meant…” Dean looked back up at Castiel, searching his figure. The angel seemed to be actually breathing and his eyes sparkled with an intensity Dean had never seen in the angel before. Dean smirked.

“It is different from the instruments used in Heaven, by the angels, at least.” Castiel stutteringly finished, eyes leaving the guitar and gazed interestedly at the floor beneath him.

Sam weaved his eyes between the two, smirking slightly and making his way silently to the door, mumbling something about, ‘research on the care of violins.’

“Oh yeah? It’s different from your choir boy groups and harp ensembles.”

“Music is one of the most cherished types of worship in heaven, as our combined voices tend to reach the metaphorical ears of our Father with more ease. And they are lyres, not harps.” Castiel brushed off.

Dean set aside the guitar against a wooden table, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

“So what, you learned to play harp for your dad as a kid or something?”

It was Castiel’s turn to be nervous, and he rubbed the back of his neck, tapping his feet slightly against the floor.

“Ah…well… no…I didn’t quite attach myself to those specific strings…”

Dean grabbed a chair from a table beside him and straddled it, leaning his crossed arms over the back and faced the Seraph, who was now avoiding his gaze.

“They did not wish for me to play among them, as the instrument was too much of a… distraction… to the rest of the group. “

“Oh come on, no you’ve got me interested. What was it?” Dean inquired.

Castiel hesitated, before sighing and turning on his throne to face the large, dusty piano. He snatched up the sheet music that was laid out in front of him and looked through it. Dean raised an eyebrow, _You’re not going to answer after all that suspense?_ Dean shifted in his seat and opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Castiel lifted the cover on the ivory keys. Dean was taken aback for a moment, before settling in his chair, trying to cover his interest.

Castiel looked down at his hands which hovered over the grey, chipping ivory keys. He took in a breath and let his eyelids droop.

From the moment his hands hit the keys, the room disappeared. Dean’s breath was caught in his throat as he listened to the melancholy soft sound of the piano. Castiel’s hand’s danced across the keys without failure or hesitance. His whole torso bobbed with the tempo of the song, his hands swiping the entirety of the piano. In his eye he could imagine a couple lost in each other’s embrace, dancing to the tune of the song, lost in each other.

Soon the tempo slowed, ending softly for a moment. Castiel took a breath, and his face filled with a deep concentration. The tempo quickly sped up and the notes mounted in suspense, almost like the calm before a storm. The notes clutched at Dean’s heart, and he found himself almost struggling for breath, waiting for the outcome. Soon, his hands played a tune that glinted like the sun, and shimmered like the reflection of a pond. The couple that had danced in Dean’s head soon found themselves in a fast paced dance filled with joy and love, and he found himself smiling subconsciously.

This was definitely distracting.

But soon the melody softened and its sunlit tune receded into its darkened state. Clouds covered the sun and the pond melted away into sea of algae. There were no stars, no light, except from the blue of grace that lingered in his vision. The seraph now had his eyes completely closed, and his once smiling face had now turned dark, or, if Dean dared say; fearful. The tempo picked up again in suspense, desperation now clear in its notes. Castiel leaned completely over his piano as he rocked into the tune of the piece, and then it broke. It was like witnessing the death of a lover, it felt like rain had come down in torrents, flooding the ground with puddles of grief. It was like being sucked into hell, hands grasping at the remainder of life before being ultimately dragged into your demise. The couple was torn apart, leaving each other behind to thrash in the mud towards each other, only to become farther apart. Something warm was now traveling down Dean’s face, but he paid no mind. Slowly they both melted into the ground and disappeared into the air, their faces hollowed out with despair.  Castiel played the last notes with all of his being, throwing passion into the last notes.

 A gruesome ending to the story with a gruesome beginning.

Castiel took a deep breath, and turned in his chair, hunched over himself.

“What was that…?”

Castiel cleared his throat and loosened his collar. “That was Ballade No.1 Op.23 by Chopin, the solo version. It is supposed to be a dueat but…I…have not practiced in quite a while, as we have been quite busy until recently and I…- Dean?”

Dean sucked in a breath and looked up at Castiel who was staring at him with obvious concern. Dean took in a shaky breath and composed himself. He let out a cracked laugh and wiped up his face, trying to cover himself.

“No that was….that was…”

Castiel lilted, a sigh letting from his lips.

“As said, I have not practiced in-

“No.” Dean scrambled from his chair, and sat on the side of the piano bench, catching the Castiel’s hand as it tried to close the cover for the piano. Castiel startled and looked up into Dean’s eyes in confusion. Dean could see that even Castiel’s hands looked to be that of a pianists, even if they had no proof that Jimmy had played the piano at some point. They were slender and long, and they Dean knew from all the times they had fought that they had power behind them. Dean stopped himself and let go of Castiel’s hand quickly, averting his gaze to make up for his slip.

“Uh, I mean…’You interpret me wrong’…” he nervously chuckled.

Castiel tilted his head curiously at Dean, his nose only a breadth away from Dean who was obviously struggling.

“That was… that was the shit. The choir group probably didn’t want you to play for Almighty Sky Daddy because you’d steal the spotlight.”

Castiel huffed a slight chuckle of appreciation, and gazed back at Dean’s glowing eyes, a small smile of his making its way across his face.

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean nodded with his own blissful smile, until he realized.

 

Oh boy, were they going to make some kick ass jams together now.


End file.
